Immortal Love, Chapters 1 & 2 [adult nursing] [magical realism] [oral, lesbian, bisexual, gay (brief), double penetration, …others?] [NO incest] [all characters 18+]

**Story Blurb:**

Anais (ann-i-ees) is a wealthy immortal woman with a big heart and bigger tits. She travels the world to comfort mortals with her magical milk and sexual affection. Her husband Marco, who is also immortal and equally fond of sex, stays at home and caters to a handful of random 25+-year-olds. They were lucky enough to find what is essentially a secret sex palace and learn from the very best.

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**Writer’s Note:**

Hi folks,

First post in this subreddit.

I don’t see a lot of videos/literature about adult nursing, so I thought I’d give it a shot.

I use this story to clear my head when I have writer’s block for my other stories, so I apologize for anything that is poorly written or doesn’t make sense. If you’re confused about anything, I’d be happy to clarify. Sometimes the story moves faster than my fingers can type. I think many of you can relate, haha.

I have more chapters ready, so please let me know if you’d like me to post more.

A final note: I am a white heterosexual cisgender woman, so the story is from that perspective–unconscious biases and all. Please know that I don’t mean to disrespect anyone. Educate me if needed.

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# Chapter 1

*Anais*

Wetness swirls around my breast as I review this week’s schedule at my desk. I prefer paper, but my assistant Vanessa insisted that we modernize, so a tablet glows in my shadowed office, hidden from the world behind tall drawn drapes, standard for the original rococo style of the mansion.

My schedule is busy, like usual. I am booked for events and private visits all over the world. I will have a ten-hour flight one evening, but that will give Vanessa time to recuperate. Unlike me, she is mortal. I can live without sleep, drink, food, or bathing, however, some of my clients prefer that I join them in those activities. My waving hair has not grayed, and my smooth, voluptuous body has not aged since I was thirty-five years old, which was just shy of 900 years ago if I remember correctly. Despite my age, I am still full of life, and I am able to renew the lives of mortals, the ones who are anxious about living a life that ends. I cannot make them immortal, but I can invigorate them to continue living.

The soft cushion of the chez lounge on which I sit ruffles. I use it in lieu of a desk chair because desk chairs proved to be too restrictive. The possibility to lay oneself on the lounge is usually necessary whenever I am at the desk.

A soft whimper exhales on my breast. I gently glide my hand down long naked legs that stretch to the end of the chez lounge, and there is another whimper. I gently shh the whimper and stroke a long blond ponytail, situated high on Vanessa’s head. She sighs in my lap and slowly suckles my large breast, drawing my milk into her mouth with her expert sucking rhythm. She needs to recuperate more than any other living person I know. Assisting an immortal requires endurance and stamina she could never maintain on her own, despite how strong she is.

I sigh and lean back my head as I hold her to my breast. Her suckling calms me, and it enlivens my sex. Though my arousal depends on the situation, I’ve always enjoyed giving to the mortals. My presence calms them, my body comforts them, and my endless milk rejuvenates them. The more they share their vulnerability with me, the wetter I become.

I wish Vanessa could continue, but there is business to attend to. I softly coo, “Vanessa, our next appointment will be here soon.” She whines and latches on harder, and I blush. Out of all my assistants over the years, she enjoys her time with me the most.

I gently pull her head away from my breast. Her eyes open, and I recognize how they change as she emerges from her daze. She looks up at me, and I recognize an excited twinkle in her eye. Not all mortals look at me with that twinkle, but Vanessa always has after our time together.

She wiggles her naked body under the desk and nuzzles her nose between the hem of my sheer silk robe. It always rides up when I sit, so her nose touches my sensitive mound, naked of hair, like the rest of my body.

I smile and place my hand on her head to stop her. “He will see you under the desk.”

But she shakes her head and tries to pull my legs apart. “I don’t care.”

I’ve learned that Vanessa never doubts her decisions, so I open my legs and let her take me into her mouth. Her tongue is strong, and her lips are eager as she sucks on my clitoris and licks my wetness. I cannot count how many times I’ve felt her mouth, but it feels more enjoyable each time it meets my sex. My womanness has come to expect for her and yearn for her, and it revels in her acute admiration for me and my profession.

There’s a knock on the door, and I sing for the knocker to enter. His expression matches nearly every other that has walked into my office for the first time. I can imagine the scene before him: a sinfully angelic woman dressed in white silk and a young, round bottom glowing in the light that pours in through the slit of the drapes. Vanessa is wearing her black patent heels this morning, so I can imagine the view is especially alluring.

The middle-aged man grips the edge of the door and tries to break his gaze from Vanessa’s bottom. Unsuccessful, he says half-willingly, “I can come back later.”

I smile. “That isn’t necessary.” I gracefully nod to the chair near my desk. “Sit down in front of Vanessa.” She pushes her face harder between my legs, and my hips shiver in pleasure.

The man awkwardly places the chair and his feet around Vanessa’s legs, then looks at me with eyes so wide and cheeks so flushed that I can’t help but chuckle. “You’re Martin, I presume?”

He breaks his gaze and clears his throat. “Um. Yes. That’s correct.”

“And you’d like to schedule an event?”

“Yes.”

“There can be no more than ten groups, and each group can have no more than two people. Are you aware of that?”

He nods as he stares at a gold pen on my desk.

“When would you like to have the event?”

“Three months?”

“I’m booked for the year.”

His gaze flicks to mine, and he sheepishly asks, “The whole year?”

If Vanessa were handling this meeting, she would dryly say, “Yes. That is what ‘booked for the year’ means.”

I am nicer than Vanessa. “I’m afraid so.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Oh. I’ll have to talk to the guys again.”

I softly smile, then I place my soft hand over his. “But let’s make this meeting worthwhile.”

I lean to open a drawer, and Vanessa seizes the chance to open my legs wider. I catch my hitching breath as I remove a stack of contracts from the drawer. I insisted these not be digitized, in contrast to Vanessa’s arguments.

I place the contracts in front of Martin. “All guests must sign these if they want to participate.” As he scans through the text, I summarize, “Sex is permitted, but not required. I will assume that all attendees have received consent to participate from their sexual partner or partners. I will require a private room that is separate from the main room where the participants wait. If participants would like to share their time with me with another participant or participants, they may do so. While with me, participants do not need to worry about contracting or transferring any infections or diseases. I am immune to them, and there is no risk of unwanted pregnancy. I am not responsible for any infections, diseases, or pregnancies that result from sexual activities between participants.”

“It’ll just be a bunch of straight guys, so–”

“Surprising things happen during my events.”

He looks up at me from the contract, and I nod my head once to underline my point. Unsurprisingly, his gaze shoots back down to the document. A bit of sweat forms on his brow.

“No recording of any kind is allowed—that includes photographs, videos, and audio. My identity is strictly confidential. No one can share my name or likeness to anyone.

“And I should not have to say this, but pressuring or forcing anyone in the event to conduct or witness any unwanted action is strictly forbidden. That especially applies to Vanessa.”

Vanessa climbs up from under the desk and straddles me, and my robe falls open in the commotion. She grinds her beautifully wet pussy against me and whimpers into my ear with her ponytail draped over her shoulder. Martin is stone stiff except for his eyes as he watches her gyrate in the light.

I rest my hand on her pelvic bone to steady her as she rides me and ask Martin, “Do you understand?”

With his knuckles white from gripping the armrests of the chair, he nods. “Yes.”

Still desperately, but admirably trying to be a gentleman, he looks me in the eye and asks, “How much?”

Vanessa tightens her grip around me, and I gently wrap my arms around her. “One hundred thousand dollars.”

Finally broken, he slumps in the chair and rakes his hand through his hair. “So the rumors are true.”

“That rumor is true.”

He stares at the contract as he absorbs all of the information, then he exhales and nods. “Okay. I’ll talk to the guys.”

“Would you like to try it?”

He makes more ardent eye contact with me than he’s done since he opened my office door. “You mean right now? You seem…” He looks at Vanessa again.

I softly smile. “She can finish.”

I murmur in her ear, “Vanessa, it’s time to finish.”

She shakes her head and grinds me harder, inspiring my sex to thickly pulse in desire.

I stroke her cheek and reiterate as a whisper, my lips close to hers, “Baby, it’s time to finish.” I lightly pinch her nipple to encourage an orgasm.

She whines and grinds faster, creating a stimulating buzz between my legs. I gently kiss her, taking only her bottom lip into my mouth, and she whines again. I gently encourage her mouth open with my teeth, and I slide my tongue into her mouth as she rides me faster and harder. I can’t resist grinding against her, swirling my sex around hers as she moves to and fro along our clits. A loud whine pours out of her, and I feel myself approaching the edge.

I look into her eyes and whisper, “Come for me, baby.”

I say it three more times with increasing urgency, and we grind against each other more fervently after every expression, until I’m hot and glistening, and she’s in her favorite place: lost in sobbing pleasure, aching for more of me but wanting to finish, to finally relieve the pressure that has built between us.

I cup her breast in my hand and urge, “Come. We’ll come together.” And I pinch and twist her nipple the way she loves until she cries out and shakes against me. My body shakes against hers with the same desperation for relief and rapture.

She still shakes in my arms as my body settles, and I hold her until she stills and falls limp against me.

After a handful of calming breaths, she kisses me in thanks. It’s a soft kiss, passionate and full of gratitude. Then she stands, and I feel her fiery energy leave me as she walks toward the door. Her wetness dripping down her legs shimmers in the soft sunlight. She opens the door and smirks at Martin. Then she turns, and her long legs and tall heels disappear behind the door.

Martin’s mouth hangs open as he pulls at his hair. “Is she part of the event, too?”

“No.” I adjust the gold pen that had rolled during Vanessa’s and my lovemaking. “She supervises. And she has a boyfriend.”

“And he’s okay with”—he waves his hand at the ghost of the scene that just occured—”*that*?”

I smile. “Of course.” Then I pat next to me on the chez lounge. “Your turn.”

He hesitantly stands and walks around the desk. I encourage him to get comfortable as I rest my back on the arm of the lounge. I’m completely stretched along the lounge as he steps out of his underwear.

I hedge, “You didn’t have to get naked.”

“Well she was, and she seemed to have a good time, so I thought I’d give it a shot.”

I softly laugh, and his eyes brighten as he meets my favorite form of me: the nurturer, the consoler, the lover of fragile people.

I outstretch my arms, and a smile joins his bright eyes as he crawls on top of me and rests his head in the crook of my shoulder. I slightly turn myself into him as I cup my breast, swollen with anticipation and tender from Vanessa’s suckling, and guide it toward his mouth.

Some people easily participate, and Martin is one of them. He quickly accepts my breast in his mouth and finds a rhythm to his liking. His shoulders relax as he sighs. I gently comb his hair off his forehead, and he nuzzles into me with another long exhale.

“Would you like some milk?” I can control when I lactate. Some don’t want milk; dry suckling is soothing enough for them.

But Martin looks up at me from my breast and nods. I smile and squeeze. He softly moans as the rejuvenating liquid fills his mouth.

As he drinks, I admire his face. His long eyelashes, his high cheekbone, his thick brow, and his straight nose. I glide my fingers over the wrinkles from his smiles and the freckles from the sun. I feel his stubbly facial hair and his jaw. I pet his ear with slow, calming motions, and I pet the rest of him. His shoulder, his arm, the bit of hair on his chest, and I feel him relax into me.

His penis is hard, so I glide my fingers along it. He groans in pleasure, so I stroke him as he suckles, bringing him the pleasure and relief every hardworking mortal deserves. His breath quickly labors until he comes like a spurting fountain. Men spending their first time with me usually expel themselves quickly. But Martin isn’t embarrassed or disappointed. He continues to suckle as his penis drains and calms.

He suckles slowly and deeply, sucking a considerable amount of milk into his mouth before slowly swallowing. I enjoy his wet lips around my nipple and the sensation of my magical milk leaving my body and into his, replenishing him and filling him with love. Mortals have less time for love than they deserve. They should have more time for love than anything because their lives are so short.

My sex stirs again, and it becomes more aroused the longer he stays attached to my breast. I want him to touch me, but he doesn’t initiate it, so I leave him be.

I’m not sure how long we lay in the chez lounge; I don’t pay attention to clocks. The awareness of time creates haste in mortals because they are afraid it is running out too quickly. They rejuvenate best when they’ve forgotten about time, so I make sure to ignore it. Discontent in me would transfer to them.

As my schedule’s keeper, Vanessa is always very aware of the time. She softly knocks and opens the door wearing a black pencil skirt and black blazer, sharp like her. “We have to leave for New York.”

Martin opens his eyes and gasps like he is emerging from a baptismal bath. He sits up and stares at Vanessa, now fully clothed and fierce, with his hair shooting in different directions.

I smile and wipe some milk from the corner of his mouth, but I’ve lost him.

He asks, “What time is it?” He searches through his heap of clothes and picks up his cell phone. “Shit. It’s been an hour.” He frantically starts dressing.

“Martin.”

As he puts on his last shoe, he looks at me.

“How do you feel?”

He stands tall and takes a deep breath. “Great.”

Happy that I helped him, I stand and try to fix his hair. “I hope to see you next year.”

He smiles and nods, full of energy. “Me too.” Then my lips catch his gaze. I lean forward in invitation, and he softly kisses me.

“I’m sorry, Mr. MaGuire. You need to leave.”

When he retreats from my lips, his eyes shine more brightly than they did before. He confidently nods, then leaves.

Vanessa brings me a wrap dress and a pair of heels. “Get dressed. We’re late.”

# Chapter 2

*Anais*

Vanessa opens a set of double doors for me, and the chatter in the room hushes. I smile and apologize for our tardiness as I walk toward the private room. As I open the door, I remind the guests that Vanessa has the order of when each guest will participate. There is loud shuffling as I close the door.

I completely undress and stack pillows on the bed so I am comfortable while I lay with the participants and support their heads. When I’m comfortable, I smile and sigh. I’ve seen this group for the past five years. We’ve developed close relationships that allow for experimentation.

Marcus, however, is not much of an experimenter. Every year he comes alone and is satisfied quite quickly, which is why Vanessa always schedules him first. “In and out,” she says.

He enters the room with a polite hello and removes his shoes. He places them beneath the couch in the room, then removes his trousers and underwear, folds them, and places them on the couch. When he climbs onto the bed, he is only wearing a sweater. He prefers to lay across my lap rather than beside me. Silently, he positions his head in my arm and accepts my breast.

He is a gentle suckler, seeming to prefer feeling the fullness of my breast on his tongue than my milk. As he quietly suckles, I rub his back until his penis rises in hardened arousal. Like with Martin, I gently stroke Marcus’s penis. I swirl my thumb around his wet tip and fondle his testicles. He begins to whimper as pleasure grows in his penis. He takes my breast fully into his mouth and sucks out the milk I happily love to share. He sucks and swallows and I stroke him until he shudders and comes, shooting his seed onto the sheets. Group events are never the neatest, but the participants don’t mind. As his breath settles, he returns to his gentle suckling, feeling my breast with his curious tongue. When he is completely calm and satisfied, he rises off the bed, cleans himself up in the bathroom, dresses, and leaves with a quiet thank you and goodbye.

Next are Daniel and Patricia, a husband and wife who each lay naked beside me as they suckle. They have told me that they fast the days of our events, so I often experience them hungrily sucking out my milk. Today is no different. Daniel takes large mouthfuls, and I often spend time wiping his mouth and letting him suck the milk off my finger. Patricia prefers a steady rhythm that neatly and efficiently drinks until she is satisfied for the moment.

After both are satisfied, Daniel enjoys watching Patricia and I kiss. We sit on our knees and share our mouths and tongues while Daniel strokes himself. Patricia squeezes my nipple, and some milk flows out, which Daniel eagerly licks.

Patricia and I advance to grinding ourselves against each other, pressing our sensitive clitorises together and slowly circling. Our legs part, and I slide my wet petals along hers. We moan as the sensation intensifies along with our longing for hard manness inside of us.

Daniel kisses his wife passionately, and I stroke him as they express their love with their mouths and tongues and quiet moans of synchronous pleasure. We are all tangled together as a mass of heat and lust.

Daniel kisses me with sweet appreciation for what I give to him and Patricia, and then Patricia joins. We sit in a circle of three and take turns tenderly kissing each other. Patricia strokes her husband’s penis while he pleasures our clitorises with his fingers.

Next I lay on my back, and Patricia takes my breast into her mouth again. She cries when Daniel inserts himself behind her, and then suckles as he glides in and out of her. She isn’t as neat as before because she needs to steady herself against her husband’s loving motions. I often feel like I am floating on water while we share this position, and it is exquisite. Patricia’s mouth and nose rock against my breast, and Daniel’s activity rocks the bed. Exquisiteness, however, turns to longing as I hear Daniel and Patricia share his manness. I imagine it inside of me, filling me and enjoying my slick wetness, but I never ask for it. What Daniel and Patricia share with me is their choice.

Daniel asks me to turn onto my hands and knees and for Patricia to do the same beneath me. We do ask he asked and present our wet petals to him, mine above hers. I don’t tell him how he tortures me when he glides the tip of his penis along my glistening womanness or how I wish I could see him do the same to his wife below me. Slicked from both of us, he slides his penis between us and glides it between Patricia’s buttocks and along my clitoris. We both whimper, and some of my milk drips onto Patricia’s back, and I long for Daniel. I long for a moment of what he gives to Patricia when they are alone.

He slides himself inside of me, and I curl against Patricia and shout. After only a few glorious thrusts, his full length reaches my sensitive cervix. My body stuns into a fit of quivers, and Daniel continues as I shake around his wife. Patricia comes as well, and she whispers thanks to me as we shudder together.

Daniel and his wife join each other beside me on the bed. Laying on top of her, he looks into her eyes and professes his love while he thrusts. I watch them live in their love as Daniel ejaculates inside of her. His release inspires Patricia to come beneath him, and they quiver in each other’s arms until they are blissfully spent.

Patricia likes to sweetly kiss me while Daniel catches his breath. I resist from grinding against her so to not arouse her now that Daniel is finished.

Once they’ve cleaned up and dressed, they give me a kiss on each cheek and leave an orchid on the vanity for me as a gift.

Next Vanessa sends in Eliot and Roger, two lively men, best friends and both twenty-somethings who are wealthy from the finance industry. Though they love to suckle on my breasts together, they are heterosexual, so they share kisses only with me. I do not mind their undivided attention.

Scientists by trade, they work together to find out how they can pleasure me most. They’ll discuss their hypotheses before experimenting with me and then recall what was most effective. Their energy and inquisitiveness charms me, and I find myself giggling almost as much as moaning. Today, they try to find an erogenous zone that has not yet been discovered. They ask me to lay on my side and sit at either end of my body, one at my ankles and the other my shoulders. They kiss and lightly bite my skin. They suck. They stroke and massage. They try with their mouths, and hands, thighs, and penises.

Roger nips at a spot just under my buttocks, and I gasp and ask for more. He slowly licks and sucks on the spot as he massages my buttocks, and his fingers quickly find my drenching petals between my legs. I laugh and tell him he’s cheating by playing with me between my legs, but he persists. Soon his intuition takes over, and he forgets about his mission. He pulls himself closer to me. Then he rests his head on my hip as his hand explores my thigh. I shiver when his fingers dip into my inner thigh. I slightly lift my leg, and he slides his fingers into the wetness. I moan as he caresses me from the front and back, and I gasp when he slides two fingers from behind inside of me. He lifts my leg over his shoulder and sucks my folds, lapping up the wetness between them, seemingly entranced.

Eliot migrated from my shoulders to my belly some time ago by following my curves to my waist. Laying in front of me, he kisses his way up my body. I reactively clench around Roger’s fingers as Eliot approaches my breast. Whether he’s aware of it or not, he has always enjoyed my breasts more than Roger. His hand slides along my ribcage and rests with his thumb under my breast, and my breath catches in my throat as his lips approach my nipple that stings for him. He seizes my breast in his entire mouth and sucks my milk out of me.

My body tenses and I find myself whispering, “*Eliot.*”

He whispers what so few men are comfortable enough to say: “*Mommy.*”

I cry out and pull him closer. I love how I can comfort them, how I can make them feel safe and loved in a world that doesn’t. If only there were another way for them to verbalize their appreciation.

Eliot and Roger suck me as if their judgemental minds have quieted and their crushed emotions have blossomed. Roger’s lips and tongue silently revel in the wetness and softness between my legs. His head bobs in rhythm, and his hands pull me closer to his mouth. He isn’t desperate to pleasure me or himself. He is content and calm. Eliot can’t get enough. He holds me close as he pulls my breast into his mouth and desperately drinks. I pet his hair, and he lets go of my breast and latches onto my lips. He holds the back of my head as he nearly consumes me with wide-mouthed kisses. He moans as his bottom lip shakes with energy and urgency.

I avoid names while I’m with more than one person so not to imply favoritism, but Eliot is so desperate and Roger is so engrossed between my legs that I break my rule.

I whine his name. “*Eliot*.” He whines in return and bunches my hair in his hand, and I can’t stop myself. I say his name again and again between his starving kisses until I’m nearly crying with longing.

His voice drops to a guttural, primal growl. “*I want you*.”

And I want him inside of me.

I pat Roger’s head and encourage him to hug my back. He’s biting my shoulder and grinding against me before I recognize it’s happening.

Roger presses his fingers to my clitoris and Eliot slides himself inside of me in a blinding flash of ecstasy. Eliot squeezes my buttocks and growls my name.

“*Anaïs.*”

Roger slides himself inside of my anus and I cry out in euphoria. They move in and out one at a time, and I whimper between them with shallow, overwhelmed breaths. Eliot growls my name until he too gets lost in us. His growl softens until he is whining my name into my neck.

Roger’s firm chest and abdomen roll against my back, and he pulls me closer by a hand around my waist. His embrace sets me on fire. He presses himself deeper into my anus, fills me with more of his arousal, and I wail and convulse.

Both men clutch me and slide in and out of me as I quake, shaking more violently with each fluid movement. Their breaths labor and they each press their heads into my body as they quicken their pace until they’re both smacking into me at the same time. My eyes roll into the back of my head. I’m shaking all the way to my fingertips and shouting with the little breath I have.

They shudder simultaneously and expel themselves inside of me. We shake, and together we gently calm until we are laying silently on the bed.

Like usual, they suckle my breasts one last time before they clean up. I’d like to pet their hair, but I am too tired today.

After they’ve cleaned up, they each give me lingering kisses, and then they leave.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/ekllpc/immortal_love_chapters_1_2_adult_nursing_magical

3 comments

  1. Interesting story. Anaís seems nearly like a vampiress to me. Probably it’s the immortality. But she is different in that she nurtures and seems perhaps to love human beings. Especially the broken ones. Our fragile humanity brings out her maternal instinct, so that your story is a mix of mother/other. Milk and sex.

    I will keep an eye out for more chapters of this story, if you post more.

  2. That was really great, and nicely written. I enjoyed it and look forward to more.

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